


Leading You On

by Briar_Rose_Bramble



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2790332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Rose_Bramble/pseuds/Briar_Rose_Bramble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the old land, True Love’s Kiss could break any curse, just the press of one set of lips to another and an awful lot of good intentions. In this world, more often than not, a kiss just left you wanting another, then another. Rather than a destination, they were like a pathway, leading you on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leading You On

Rumple was always so very careful with his kisses. If it were up to him, Belle would still believe that a kiss was always just a kiss, in and of itself. It was only after weeks of sensible, closed-mouthed kisses that Belle had come to realise that they were something far, far more.

Perhaps it was the new land they were in. In the old land, True Love's Kiss could break any curse, just the press of one set of lips to another and an awful lot of good intentions. In this world, more often than not, a kiss just left you wanting another, then another. Rather than a destination, they were like a pathway, leading you on.

Belle was starting to find that her intentions were less than pristine.

She couldn't really help herself. Wanting to be close to her own true love had left her in his lap on more than one occasion, and even then she'd attempted to press herself closer still, thrilling at the feel of his body under hers. Belle couldn't simply kiss him without the need for more, tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue until he had let her inside and, _oh!_ Hadn't that been a whole new of sensation!

The thought of _being_ with him (Belle was more comfortable with her intentions than her post-Curse vocabulary) seemed like such a natural expression of love that Belle couldn't understand how, with the Curse all but forgotten behind them, their relationship remained chaste. After all, they'd declared their love for one another them moment her memories had returned. This Rumpelstiltskin could admit his love for her and had no reason to fear her kisses, yet, apparently, somehow, _bewilderingly_ he did.

"I want it to be perfect for you," was the only answer he gave when Belle suggested that perhaps kissing until they were both breathless was simply not going to be enough.

"It already is," she reasoned. "It's you. And besides, I don't care about perfect. I care about us, now, _tonight_."

"It's been a long time since anybody loved me, Belle. This is almost as new to me as it is to you and I—" he paused to pull her closer, burying his face in her hair. "I don't want to let you down."

"That doesn't matters," Belle reassured him. "Nothing matters but what we have together now. What we can build going forward." When he didn't react, she sighed. "How long, Rumple?"

"Oh, about three hundred years," he replied with attempted airiness that was betrayed by the tension in his shoulders and bite of his fingers against her upper arms. "Not that I was ever what you might call adept."

Ignoring the second half of his sentence, Belle immediately focussed on the cusp of what he was telling her. "You were alone all that time? Oh, _Rumpel_."

"Once I thought I might have found love," he started, only for his voice to break. "We never—" Belle wasn't sure if he broke off for the sake of her modesty, or for his. "It wasn't to be. I learnt to live without love." Wrapping his arms tight around her, his voice was muffled as he added. "It's enough just to have you here."

"No," Belle denied. "It isn't. I _love_ you, Rumple. And I want you, _all_ of you."

It was said with such heartfelt fervour that Belle expected a reaction – _any reaction_ – but Rumpel remained still, his whole being hidden away beneath her.

"Unless I'm being horribly selfish?" she asked softly. "All I can think of is how much I want to be with you, but is it different for you? Do you not want… that?"

He shifted beneath her, his breath hot against her hair as he gasped, "Belle. _Belle_. Never think that I don't want you."

Belle could feel him trembling against her and was at a loss at how to soothe him when he gave a harsh laugh, almost like a sob.

"I'm not explaining this at all well, am I?" he sighed.

"Just try," Belle begged gently. "I'll try to understand, I swear."

The eyes that finally met hers we sad and shifting. Refusing to rush him, Belle allowed her fingers to tangle with his long hair, petting him gently.

"You deserve so much more than I've ever given you," he began at last, raising a hand to still the protest that sprang automatically to her lips. "I gave you cruelty when you deserved kindness, criticised you when I should have been telling you how beautiful, how perfect you are, had you scrub the blood from my aprons when you should have been reclining on satin cushions eating bonbons."

Unable to stop herself, Belle giggled at the last image. "I'm not a spoiled princess," she reminded him. "I chose to come with you, remember? You'd already saved the lives of everyone I loved. No sweetmeats or pretty words could have meant more to me than that."

He shook his head unhappily. "I can give you those things now. I can offer you comfort, jewellery, as much silk and lace as you wish for, and I will give them to you this time round. You'll want for nothing, Belle, I promise, except…"

"Except?"

"I can't promise you pleasure."

"Oh," Belle gasped in sudden understanding. Regina had only bothered to give her the haziest of curse memories, but enough for Belle to have a more thorough understanding of what happened between a man and a woman. Her previous notions of marriage and babies had shuffled themselves up to accommodate a more modern concept of love and mutual pleasure, but her cheeks still heated at his frank admission.

"You deserve so much pleasure. You deserve a man who can give it to you."

She caught his hand and pressed soft kisses to his fingertips as she considered her words with care. It was a gesture Gaston had used, all those years before when they were first engaged. She'd considered it an irksome affectation at the time, but now it gave her the most delicious curling sensation inside her belly to watch Rumpelstiltskin's eyes darken unconsciously with desire at the gesture.

It was moments like this that made his protestations seem all the more redundant. The hot, shivery feeling that filled her during these tentative gestures were a shade too intense to termed merely _pleasant_ , but there was no denying the effect Rumple had on her, or his response to her in turn. If gentle kisses could stir her like this, then how could he assume that anything more could only lead to disappointment?

The thought of being allowed _more_ temporarily robbed Belle of the ability to breath. She parted her lips slightly to allow her teeth to gently graze the pads of Rumple's fingers and watched his mouth fall open in response.

"No," she decided.

He blinked, ripping his attention from her lips. "No?"

"I get to decide what I want," she informed him. "And I want you."

" _Belle_ ," he moaned. No one who knew him could have believed that Mr Gold or Rumpelstiltskin could be capable of such broken longing. It sent another hot pulse of desire coiling inside her

Her curse memories provided her with a montage of improbable seeming scenarios, hands and mouths delivering pleasure that she could barely comprehend. Such thoughts caused her blood to suffuse her face and chest, but she couldn't push them away. The idea that she might give such pleasure to Rumpelstiltskin and perhaps find it in return left her weak with desire.

"We'll find our way," she promised him. "You're already everything that I want."

He hesitated, and Belle could see that he still did not believe her. "You've never known anything else. You should—"

"Rumpelstiltskin," she frowned, releasing his hand in order to cross her arms across her chest. "No one – _no one_ – decides my fate but me. Not even you. If you don't want me, tell me, but don't dare assume to know what's best for me. I allowed you to decide what happened to me once before," she reminded him, gentling her voice. "You broke both our hearts."

Rumpel flinched at her words. He'd apologised, and she'd forgiven him, but they had never spoken about what had happened, spoken about the guilt they both shared and the wide gulf it had caused between them.

"I can't help but wonder if my way might be better," she whispered.


End file.
